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MidnaEspe Aug 2017
Overshadowed by the
tears in my eyes,
my face becomes
a silhouette of a former
spirit once alive with smiles
and amusement. Where is that
look of wonder I used to have
waking up every morning?

Although it feels like petty
whining and exaggerated
despair, the pain in my heart
is real. The stars up in the
barren night sky do not shine
as gracefully as usual.

Sprained and spurned, I weep like a
child that fell off her bicycle
for the first time. I thought I
could do it. But I realize
how weak I have become with all
this supervision. To
the point of crippling
depression, I've crossed into
deep waters without a way
to swim back to shore.

I dug my own grave in the
dirt and I cannot see the
bottom with my own eyes,
however, I can
distinctly picture gazing
at the light from the trenches
of these holes I've dug throughout
my two decades of being alive. 

It hurts to think if I fell
into the madness of Wonderland,
how long would it take to
navigate through the
nonsensical to find the
definition of a sane man?
I don't know.
But all I know is this lonely
spirit is withering and gone
flying through the wind.
Aimlessly wandering forever.
I had an overwhelming amount of emotion and had to get it out in the peak of the moment.
MidnaEspe Jun 2017
There is no easy way out.
Disaster strikes with
no way to escape.

Is survival worth the pain?
Is pain worth the survival?

Everything happens
for a reason, yes.
But there can be redemption.

It will never be too late.
No matter what the
circumstance, you are worth it.
MidnaEspe Jun 2017
My only friend is a starlet
in the eyes of a city called society.
Where do I stand in this
long walk toward an endless future?

So be the one who finds my
train of thought too obscure.
There are too many paths
for the one who wishes to
stand out amongst the rest.

Twilight dreams exist in the
darkest of times and days.
How about when I'm
in a haze? Or a phase?
When will my twilight
dreams come to stay?

**** these cold long-lasting
days. I wish for these days
to quit playing with my head.
The wildfire blizzard likes to
play with the clowns inside the
drug store, and they will not stop
dragging me in their silly gains.

What do they get out of me?
Why do they string their woeful
serenades for the likes of me?
These soulful melodies blind my
expectations soon to be.
I can hardly stay asleep...

These beams of light illuminate
the streets of Manhattan in my
head, teasing the prospects of
a peaceful evening in my bed.
The possibilities bounce.

Where are the twilight dreams to
save me from this white noise?
When will my twilight dreams
come to stay for an hour or more...?
Originally written December 2, 2015
MidnaEspe Jun 2017
Crystallization
mesmerization,
a fantastic
sensation for
generations.

Forever and ever,
I follow your endeavors.
You are my defender.

Simplistic and
futuristic, my
temptation has
surfaced ready
to begin anew.
Inner monologue running randomly rampant.
MidnaEspe Jun 2017
I left home to
cry in the ocean.

Common and uncommon,
I haven't a clue as
to why my epiphanies
dwell at sea without
a broken bottle in sight.

Sand floods my feet
with a grainy and warm
welcome for a moment.
Each step equals the
first time as the former.

The salty air envelops
my senses into pure joy.
That cool coast breeze...
it leads me to a
majestic blue current
where ghosts of memories dwell.
I absolutely adore the ocean...
MidnaEspe Jun 2017
With lingering scars
and dead-end hearts,
the sky was painted red.

This dreamer sought
ultraviolence without
a second thought.

These pavements are
not the same as before...

Neither is the place
I call home anymore...

This dreamer
with those familiar scars
and deserted heart
stands under the blood moon
******* on a cherry
like a little cherry bomb.
I had themes of "A Clockwork Orange" rolling through my mind these days and couldn't get Malcolm Mcdowell's narration from the movie out of my head.
MidnaEspe Jun 2017
Mindlessly floating,
aimlessly wandering,
pining through the
vineyard for the
key to stop my clock.

"A beautiful night." she said.
"What a waste." he replies.

"The time or the company?"
she hesitates to ask.
Thump-thump-thump

A sharp look in his eyes
thump-thump-thump
"To each, his own."

Thump-thump-thump
the key does not fit
in this tiny clock.
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